


between me and you

by plinys



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Pride Parades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-07 22:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: "The fact that it’s pride month and I don’t have anyone to kiss right now is homophobic.”[or: Richie's first Pride after coming out, and Eddie tries to be helpful by trying to find Richie a date, except the only person Richie wants to date is Eddie.]





	between me and you

**Author's Note:**

> me + the notes app on my phone when im supposed to be sleeping write great fics okay
> 
> all the other losers exist in this fic somewhere. but richie only talks to ben and bev because ?? i am bad at juggling too many characters in one scene. just assume somewhere off screen eddie went to the other guys for advice okay

It’s not something he consciously thinks of.

Not in the moment, it’s a harmless self-deprecating comment that he makes when they’re all hanging out as a group Richie is forced once again to watch Ben and Bev making eyes at each other.

And maybe he’s a little tipsy.

And maybe it’s because Eddie is sitting right there, but somehow the words slip out - “The fact that it’s pride month and  _ I  _ don’t have anyone to kiss right now is homophobic.” 

*

  
  


They’re supposed to be getting brunch because it’s Sunday and that’s the sort of thing that they do. Somewhere along the way they’ve become the sort of people that do  _ brunch _ . It’s Eddie’s fault, he’s got these weird fucking domestic urges like brunch, and Richie didn’t know how to say no to him when they were kids, certainly doesn’t know how to say no to him now that they’re adults.

Richie’s not exactly certain how he imagined his life post- _ everything _ but being the type of person that made consistent brunch plans wasn’t it.

The thing is normally Eddie shows up, forces Richie out of his apartment and into his car, but this time Eddie has invited Ben and Beverly along too. Which would normally be fine, but despite the fact that Bev probably his best friend (not counting Eddie, who really shouldn’t count), she is also trouble.

Which is why when he comes back to the table and sees the two of them conferring, he knows that something  _ not good  _ is going to come out of it.

Especially when the first words out of Eddie’s mouth once Richie sits back down at their booth is - “Don’t be mad.”

“What did you two do,” Richie asks. Narrows his eyes in suspicion at the group of them. 

Ben holds up his hands in a picture of innocence, “They wouldn’t even tell me!”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Bev insists. “But I approve!” 

Richie groans. “What the fuck did you two do?”

Eddie takes a deep breath as if preparing to give Richie some terrible news before speaking in a rush, “I made you a grindr profile.”

“What?” 

“And I helped him make you the perfect profile,” Bev jumps in, “Everyone say  _ thank you Beverly. _ ”

Repeating “What” is probably not his most eloquent but really… 

“I was reading this article online-“

“Of course, you were,” Richie cuts him off. “How many times do I have to say that everything you read online isn’t true.”

“God, shut up,” Eddie swats at him. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t die alone! I mean statistically speaking if you’re not in a serious relationship by the time you’re thirty.”

“Well we definitely passed that point,” Richie points out.

“But it’s different for me,” Eddie insists. Suddenly purposely avoiding Richie’s gaze. “As a recent divorcee. I’m just not really in the market for...” 

“For fuck’s sake.” 

“Which is why I’m helping you!”

He takes Eddie’s phone when it is offered up to him, and looks down at the profile. 

He has to admit that it’s not a terrible profile, and to be honest, though he’s careful not to say those words out loud as he scans flips through the photos that had been selected for him. It’s well done, all properly filled out and verified, despite the fact that is on Eddie’s phone and not his own. 

“How did you even link my Facebook?” 

Eddie shrugs, “Your password is my birthday.” 

Bev is thankfully out of Eddie’s line of sight when she mouths the words  _ his birthday  _ at Richie and Richie only just resists the urge to flip her off.

After all, that would tip Eddie off.

And he couldn’t have that. 

So, instead Richie focuses on the profile. 

Of the pictures staring up at him. 

The first one is one he remembers clearly having it taken, it’s his current facebook profile picture, after one of the open mic nights they had gone to, just to watch and maybe grow his craft, and remember how to write his own shit, and well, it is the few times that Richie bothered to dress up. 

The second photo was a typical  _ boyfriend  _ style photo, a photo that Eddie must have taken, though Richie couldn’t remember when; he’s sitting across the table at some Starbucks, looking away from the camera, an iced coffee in his hands. He has to admit that he looks good in the photo, even if he can’t remember when it was taken. 

The third photo is a selfie, one he sent on Snapchat two days ago, though the caption has been cropped out. 

The fourth is a picture from a professional photoshoot, one of the pictures that you get when people google image search  _ Richie Tozier _ . 

The final photo is a group shot, all of their friends together, with Richie at the center, still clearly the focus. 

Richie lingers on the photo, because he looks happy, so happy that it’s not hard to remember the moment. Not hard to remember who put that ridiculous smile on his face. It’s a good photo, the group of them, on a rare day that everyone had off from work. 

But Richie can’t imagine how anyone could look at this photo and not see the way that he is looking at Eddie, not see the way he is ridiculously in love with his best friend and has been for years.

At this point, he’s pretty sure that the only person that doesn’t know is said best friend. 

“To prove that you have friends,” Eddie says, clearly having misunderstood why Richie had lingered on the last photo, “I even found one where you looked the best out of all of us, which was truly a struggle since you look like  _ that _ , but it’s important in dating profiles to look like you’re the most attractive friend.” 

“I am the most attractive friend,” Richie insists. 

Because there’s so many other things he  _ wants  _ to say, but none that he can force out.

“Please Ben is literally sitting at this table.” 

Which, okay fair. 

“Ben doesn’t count.”

“Wait, why don’t I count,” Ben chimes in.

But thankfully he is saved having to answer, by Eddie speaking up,“Just… The other night you were talking about wanting a date for Pride and well…”

Eddie looks so excited at the prospect. 

So fucking earnest. 

He just wants to help. 

And maybe this is a good thing, maybe this is what will finally get him over pining over his almost certainly straight best friend, it was worth a shot at least. 

“They’re going to think I’m catfishing them, which technically  _ you  _ are.”

“A technicality.” 

Richie hands the phone back over, “Okay, but you have to help me set up these dates. I’m shit at this on my own.” 

“Trust me, I’ve got good taste.”

“Do you?” 

“Oh fuck you.” 

Richie grins, a little too wide, “Aren’t you supposed to be finding me someone else to do that instead?” 

*

“You’re really whipped for that boy aren’t you,” Bev says, when she calls him later that evening. 

Richie groans, already feeling a little sorry for himself. 

Richie falls back down onto his couch. Wishing that the couch would consume him so that he didn’t have to exist anymore. “Don’t you have your own boyfriend to be bothering? Can’t you just let me be sad and gay and lonely all on my own.” 

Bev just teases him with a coo and, “Poor baby, if only there was a way not to be sad and pining forever.” 

“Yeah, if only.” 

*

Honestly, as far as Richie is concerned, being sad and lonely and gay all on his own is going great.

It had taken a bit of time to even be comfortable with his sexuality. Killing an evil clown and remembering that he was gay sort of helped. Having friends that didn’t give a fuck about whether he wanted to kiss guys or girls or both, made thigns easy. And while it had been a little nerve wracking admitting it, things weren’t all that terrible.

His _ im gay lol  _ tweet had gotten good reception online, and there was even a Buzzfeed article about him, so that has to count as proof of success. 

Sure, since coming out he’s never actually  _ dated  _ a guy. 

He’d kissed and he’d fucked, but dating… Well, that probably had more to do with the fact that he’s been pining after the same person since he was in the third grade, and forgetting about him for twenty-seven years hadn’t actually changed anything. 

Because when Eddie woke up and Richie recapped everything he missed and then added in  _ “By the way, I think I’m into dudes _ .” 

Eddie had just replied, “ _ Neat _ ” like it was nothing. 

Which, should have been his time to get over those feelings he had always harborred for Eddie. 

Not that his heart would listen. 

Not that his heart was listening now. 

Hence the whole… Sad, and lonely, and gay thing. 

Which to be fair has been working out for Richie so far, until it’s not, until they’re out at dinner and Eddie who has gotten  _ far too excited  _ about this whole prospect, slides a phone with Richie’s  _ potential matches  _ his way. “You have to go on a date with  _ one  _ of them.”

“Alternatively,” Richie says, not looking at the phone. “I  _ don’t _ .” 

The sigh Eddie lets out, overdramatic and put upon, like he’s done with Richie’s bullshit. Like he’s been done with Richie’s bullshit for years. “Rich, come on.”

“I don’t-”

“Well, I don’t want you to die alone.” 

There’s something in Eddie’s voice. A little too honest, a little too hurt, and Richie doesn’t know how to deal with any of that. How to deal with the  _ concern  _ that is so clearly there. He can only imagine what Eddie thinks that maybe the reason Richie hasn’t put himself out there and gotten a boyfriend is because he still feels insecure about his sexuality. Which is valid and fair and really Richie was still trying to work through a lot of self hatred, but this had nothing to do with that. 

There’s one person Richie would date without hesitation, that would make all of those anxieties and fears that he’s had for years no longer matter, the problem was that person was so clearly not interested in him. 

To the point of actively trying to set him up with other people. 

“I’m not going to die alone, I mean, remember when we were kids and we promised to marry each other when we both turned thirty,” Richie says. “There’s always that option.”

Eddie frowns at him. 

Richie tries to smile back, to make it clear that he’s  _ joking. _

“Richie…” 

“If you’re so worried about me being lonely,” Richie says, quick to cut him off. He doesn’t need to be turned down. Not sure he could handle hearing it, not from Eddie. “I’ll adopt a fucking cat. Can’t be depressed when you’ve got an animal that would eat your corpse if you ever died.” 

“That’s morbid.”

“I read an article about it once.” 

“I thought you said not to believe everything you read on the internet.”

“No, yeah, but this was in a newspaper.” 

“You know how to read?”

“I had a friend who read an article about it.” 

“So Mike?”

“We have other friends that can read… I think?”

“You think?” 

They both burst into laughter at the same time. 

So easy and simple that Richie can forget about everything else.

Everything other than Eddie.

*

The dates go poorly.

As expected.

Mostly because he has no real interest in dating anyone.

Flirting is fun.

Richie likes to flirt, likes to do whatever he can to get his  _ date  _ to laugh, to lean in just a little bit too close, with eyes that roam over his body. But that’s all it is, flirting. And despite what Eddie may or may not have read on the Internet, none of the guys on this app are looking for any sort of serious relationship.

And even if they were...

“I can’t believe you dragged me to get STD tested with you.”

They’re not  _ Eddie _ .

Eddie who somehow makes the chair in the clinic waiting room look comfortable. His iced coffee going warm between his hands as he shoots Richie a look of disapproval.

“This is your fault.”

Richie takes a long drink of his own iced coffee, before replying. “How is this my fault?”

“If you were actually taking this seriously instead of just fucking with whatever guy I find for you-“

“You’re a really fucking good wingman, Eds.”

“I didn’t start this just so you could get your dick wet.”

“Jealous?”

“Fuck off.”

Richie’s just teasing.

But fuck, a part of him wishes that he wasn’t.

That Eddie really was jealous.

Because at least then…

“Look I’m sure I could get you laid,” Richie insists. “What about the nurse, she’s your type right?”

Eddie doesn’t even look up at the nurse. “She just took my blood to make sure I don’t have an STD, even if she was my type, I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed, Rich.”

“Maybe that’s her kink!”

“That’s nobody’s kink.”

“Don’t kink shame. It could be my kink.”

“It’s not. I know all your kinks.”

He does.

Which is the problem with all of this.

Another reason why getting over Eddie is impossible. 

“Actually on second thought-“

“Oh no.”

“Maybe I should give up on men,” Richie says. “Maybe my mother was right and the best choice for me is to go give her grandkids and convince myself that tits are hot and fuck maybe she’s into pegging, we could do it from behind. I’d never even notice.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Actually,” Richie drawls the word out. Taking another drink of his coffee, but this time purposely making eye contact with their nurse.

She’s not attractive.

Not really at all.

“I bet I could get her number,” Richie says.

“Don’t.”

“I mean, now I have to, it’s a challenge.” 

“You don’t.”

Richie stands up, with the intention to do just that.

Only to be stopped by Eddie grabbing his sleeve and tugging him back down. 

“Sit the fuck down, Richie.”

“Oh now  _ this  _ is actually my kink.”

*

“How come you two got together her so easily and I’m over here hating that I’ve ever had a human emotion?”

He’s laying on the couch.

Specifically Bev and Ben’s couch. 

Because being  _ alone  _ with his thoughts was never any fun, and cockblocking them by feeling sorry for himself in their apartment was significantly more fun. Though he had agreed that if he was here he was going to be productive, which was why he was flipping through potential guys Eddie had sent him that morning, trying to get Bev to pick the next one for him to try going on a date with. 

The problem was, Richie didn’t want any of them.

“Press F to pay respects,” Bev replies. 

Her and Ben are on the other couch. 

Disgustingly romantic. 

“I have the number of a good therapist if you wanted someone unbiased to talk to,” Ben offers. 

“I have a therapist,” Richie waves him off. “This is different, you know, it’s complicated.” 

“Emotions usually are.” 

“I mean,” Richie groans, “I don’t know why I expected to get any actual advice from you two, but here I am… Just  _ fuck _ .” 

Thankfully the sound of the apartment’s buzzer goes off announcing that their pizza has finally arrived and Bev slips off the couch to get the pizzas, saving Richie from going on a self deprecating rant.

But not saving him from Ben’s softly concerned gaze.

“Maybe,” Ben suggests, voice quieter, so that it doesn’t carry over to where Beverly is, “You could actually ask the person that you like on a date, because otherwise you’ll just end up constantly comparing everyone else you meet to him and always end up finding them lacking.”

He’s right. 

Of course he is. 

But that doesn’t mean that Richie wants to admit that. 

“I liked it better when you didn’t give me valid life advice.” 

Ben shrugs. “You could always try writing your feelings down?”

“You see the difference here is you write romantic poetry, and I write crude comedy specials. Pretty sure I can’t seduce Eddie by telling the entire world how much I want his dick.” 

“Yeah… Maybe don’t do that,” Ben replies, offering him a sheepish grin in return. “If it makes any difference I think Eddie likes you too.” 

“You  _ think _ ?”

“I could ask.” 

He wants to know.

But if the answer is no.

If Eddie really is just as straight and not interested as Richie’s always been so sure that he was. 

Then not knowing is better.

Not having it all confirmed. 

“Please don’t.” 

Bev’s back a second later, and the conversation is dropped, as she returns pizza boxes in hand, “Alright,  _ heathen _ , here’s your pineapple pizza.” 

*

He makes a plan.

A terrible plan.

And he feels bad about it the second that he does but… 

Well, this wasn’t technically the advice Ben gave him, but it was sort of in the spirit of the advice, and while the idea of asking Eddie on a date was terrible and horrible and the last thing Richie could will himself to do.

This technically wasn’t that. 

So just fakes a date.

Tells Eddie he’s going out with one of the guys, talks it up like he’s actually excited to make a meaningful connection with someone. Uses that little bit of acting talent that he’s got from his very brief experience on SNL. (Who knew that cursing on air would get you fired?)

And then he sits in a coffee shop, watching his drink go cold, before texting Eddie:  _ i got stood up :(  _

It takes Eddie ten minutes to get there.

“Fuck him,” Eddie says, sliding into the seat opposite Richie. “I can’t believe, the fucking nerve of someone to stand you up and not even say anything. Who the fuck does that?” 

“I think the kids these days call it ghosting?”

“If I was your date, I never would have done that.”

“Good thing you’re not my date, right?”

He feels a little bad, a little  _ worse _ , with how heated Eddie is on his behalf. 

But he’s also so fucking in love with Eddie that seeing how protective he gets is  _ a lot _ . 

Richie would be a lot better off if everything that Eddie did, didn’t happen to turn Richie on.

“They don’t deserve you,” Eddie says, still ranting. “Nobody fucking deserves you but-”

“I’m nothing special, Eds.”

“Yes, you  _ are _ ,” Eddie insists.

With so much passion that Richie wants to believe him. 

There’s something about the way he looks.

The fire behind those eyes. 

It’s almost like whenever Eddie gets stuck in traffic and takes it as a personal offense, but also more than that. 

“Honestly, Eddie, it’s fine,” Richie says. “Not like I was expecting to find my soulmate on  _ grindr _ .” 

Eddie sighs. 

Soft, and a little bit sad. 

“I’m sorry that he stood you up, whoever he was. You give me his contact details and I’ll find him and fight him, okay?”

“You couldn’t find anyone.” 

“I found an evil alien clown from space.”

“Okay, join the club, that doesn’t count.” 

They both laugh at the same time.

So easy.

What a difference a year makes. 

But some traumas are easier to joke about than others. 

And when Eddie takes a more serious tone a moment later he knows that they’re both thinking the same thing. “I just know that things haven’t been the easiest for you since coming out and I wanted to help… I feel like I haven’t helped at all.”

He wants to say that there was no one.

That it doesn’t matter.

But he can’t. 

“I wanted your first pride to be good for you. That’s all.” 

His first  _ pride _ since coming out.

He had thought about it, responded to a few positive messages from fans on twitter, but the thought really hadn’t processed. That in just a week he would experience his first pride parade. That he would be surrounded by people that had accepted this part of themselves. 

He’s probably going to cry. 

Thinking about it kinda makes him want to cry. 

“I don’t know,” Richie says, with a small shrug. “I might not even go.” 

“You have to go.”

“Eddie-”

“I’ll go with you.” 

And fuck.

He was already so close to crying.

Stupid fucking emotions.

Stupid fucking  _ Ben  _ making him think about his emotions. 

But he can feel when his eyes start to blur, and even though he reaches up, jostling his glasses, to brush the tears away before they can fall. He sees the concern on Eddie’s face. Eddie, who is there. Who is always there. 

Why did he have to remember this one sided love? 

Why couldn’t he have just - 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, reaching across the space between them. “I’m here.”

He can’t bring himself to point out that Eddie being here is exactly why he wants to start crying. 

He’s so fucking in love that he feels like his heart might burst. 

*

He keeps thinking about it.

His  _ first  _ pride. 

Spends hours googling what to expect at a pride parade.

Asks the influx of followers that he’s gotten since coming out for advice. 

Most of which boils down to wearing sunscreen, drinking water, and not being ashamed of himself. 

No real advice on how to confess his feelings to his best friend and love of his life, but you know… 

There’s always the  _ confessing his feelings  _ option. 

*

“Tell me I’m not making a mistake.” 

“You’re not,” Bev says. 

It’s the middle of the night.

He’s pretty sure he’s just woke both of them up (he can hear Ben groaning in the background) but he needed someone  _ sane _ to talk himself down from the edge.

From chickening out on this whole parade thing. 

“Are you sure?” 

“It’s 2am, Rich.”

“Right, fuck, sorry.” 

“Eddie loves you, okay,” Bev says. “I’d bet money on it. You both just have spent the last year sucking at communication. If not your whole damn lives.” 

*

He didn’t get any sleep.

There’s definitely bags under his eyes. 

But Eddie greets him bright and early with an iced coffee and a set of paints. Really Richie is pretty sure that he is too old to have his face painted, but Eddie seems excited by the concept. So Richie sits still as Eddie tries to cover up his sleeplessness by painting a rainbow onto his cheek. 

The selfie he takes and posts does well on Instagram and his publicist is pleased so at least there’s that.

Their friends meet them at the parade, Bev wearing a shirt that says  _ I love my gay brother _ and honestly is just the right level of tacky, perfect for an actual fashion designer, all coming together to support him.

A pleasant surprise.

Someone that apparently Eddie put together. 

“I know it’s not the same as having a date for pride but…”

“I didn’t want a date,” Richie replies. 

They’re standing there, side by side, under the hot sun, waiting for the parade to stop. Loud music and so many other people pressed up all around them, but in that moment Richie doesn’t notice any of that. 

He only sees Eddie.

Eddie, who is just a little bit confused. 

“But you said before, that not having someone to kiss at pride was homophobic.” 

And Richie laughs. “It is, but you know, there’s only one person I actually want to kiss.” 

Somewhere distantly he registers Bev’s gasp and Ben’s “Oh god, he’s actually doing it.” 

But then Eddie says, “Oh,” and his cheeks are a little flushed.

And before Richie can second guess himself he does it.

Bends down and kisses Eddie.

There’s cheers.

Probably for the parade.

But instead he imagines that they’re for them.

And for this moment.

Because the greatest thing ever happens, Eddie kisses him back.

Nothing else has ever mattered more than that. 

When they break apart, neither is really willing to step outside of each other’s space. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, letting out another small “Oh.”

“Yeah,  _ oh _ ,” Richie echoes.

“How long have you wanted to, uh, do that?”

“Since we were in third grade,” Richie replies easily. “I mean, it was the 80s though, and then I kinda forgot about you for basically  _ ever _ , but you know, like always?”

“Oh,” Eddie says again. 

“Bad  _ oh  _ or good  _ oh _ ?” 

Eddie doesn’t answer him, just furrows his brow in quiet contemplation.

“So you’re telling me that you let me set you up with  _ strangers _ , while I sat here quietly jealous and suffering, when we could have been kissing this whole time?” 

“I mean, I guess?”

“You’re lucky I love you.” 

“Yeah, I really am.” 

And then he kisses Eddie again.

Just because he can.

**Author's Note:**

> come be my friend on twitter: [ @plinys ](https://twitter.com/plinys)


End file.
